Quiet
by temporalgambit
Summary: In which Osomatsu thinks he's dying, Choromatsu knows he's not, and Karamatsu does his best.
_Quiet_ has never been a term one would use to describe Matsuno Osomatsu.

 _Loud_ , definitely. Or even _obnoxious_. Grating, irritating, careless, childish, why-don't-you-just-grow-up-already? Those are just a handful of ways you could refer to the eldest sextuplet. He knows this—god knows Choromatsu has told him plenty of times—but it doesn't bother him. He's living life for the sake of enjoying life, and he doesn't care to change that one bit.

However, despite all odds, _quiet_ is what he has been since waking up. He's not an energetic morning person by any means, but he at least tends to perk up a littleafter breakfast. But he doesn't, because he can't.

He has this…headache. Or, is it even fair to call it a headache? It's more like pressure, on the left side of his head and behind his eye. It's weird. It feels like the beginning of a headache? But it doesn't really _hurt_ , it's just annoying.

So he feels weird, he doesn't know why, and he's probably acting weird now too. And while he would normally bask in the attention of his younger brothers, the not knowing part makes him uneasy. It might be nothing. It probably _is_ nothing. And the fact that sometimes, when he blinks, his vision goes kinda hazy around the edges is probably nothing too. So he does his best to help clean up after breakfast, ignoring Choromatsu's strange look when he (for once) doesn't complain about doing dishes.

Unfortunately, nobody has plans for the day, so that rules out any chance of Osomatsu figuring out what this _is_ without the prying eyes of his brothers. So he makes the next-best decision: sprawling out across the entire couch under the claim that "This is mine because I'm the oldest and there's nothing you can do about it," and choosing to sleep the day away—hoping this weird feeling will be gone by the time he wakes up.

* * *

When he _does_ wake up, he has no idea how much time has passed. He feels…weird…and disoriented, and his head _definitely_ hurts now, so he tries to open one eye just enough to peer at the clock on the wall, and—

 _PAIN._ His whole face contorts as his brain feels like it's been hit by a sledgehammer. He can't even…he doesn't even… "Oh my god…oh my _god…_ " he grinds out between his teeth before he can stop himself. He has to be dying. He's sure of it. He hears feet scurrying to his side and wonders what he should say to whoever it is—what his last words should be.

"Osomatsu-niisan…?" it's Todomatsu. He sounds worried. "What's wrong?"

"I—" the sound of his own voice hurts his head, "I don't…I'm sorry…" So much for eloquent final speeches. And then, to make matters worse, "Oh my g—I'm gonna—" and he barely has enough presence of mind to try and turn himself on his side, leaning over the edge of the couch as vomit forces its way up his throat. He coughs (which hurts) and heaves again (which hurts _worse_ ).He tries to open his eyes, but the lightis blinding, _everything_ is blinding and this is _too much_ all at once. Another gag brings up more of breakfast and he can dimly hear Todomatsu over the ringing in his ears.

"Oh g—I'm gonna get Choromatsu-niisan, hang on." He hurries out of the room, his steps far too loud for Osomatsu to deal with, and he wants to tell him to _please oh god be quiet_ because every little noise is like a shock to his nervous system and he _still doesn't know what is happening_.

The sound of feet returning is more than just two people—apparently, they'd all left him alone in the room to nap, which is the kind of gesture he'd take a moment to appreciate if it wasn't for the fact that he is literally about to die.

It's Choromatsu who approaches, because Choromatsu is the one with the most common sense when it comes to freaky medical emergencies. Gingerly sidestepping the mess on the floor, he leans down to speak. "Osomatsu-niisan," he whispers, "can you hear me?"

Osomatsu doesn't want to risk a nod, so he forces out a hushed, "Yeah…"

Choromatsu sounds relieved, "Okay, so what happened? Are you sick to your stomach, or—"

"—no, I'm…it's not that." Taking hurts, but it's almost a relief just to have someone _listen_ to him.

"Okay, then what hurts?"

"My _head_ ," he half-moans.

"Your—" Choromatsu pauses, then makes a small noise that almost sounds like a laugh, though _Osomatsu_ certainly doesn't see anything funny about the situation. "Osomatsu-niisan, I know exactly what your problem is."

He _does?_ Well, that's probably good, right? Or maybe… "Look, if I'm dying, then I want you to—"

"You're not dying," Choromatsu reassures him, "You have a migraine."

Osomatsu pauses to consider this. "A migraine…"

Choromatsu rests a hand on his shoulder, a light touch as though wary of causing more pain. "Yes. I used to get them in high school. You remember those times when I would spend the whole day sleeping on the bathroom floor, throwing up, and everyone would get so mad because they couldn't pee? It's basically the worst headache of your life times like…a thousand."

"Oh…" Osomatsu feels kind of stupid now, knowing that. He just hadn't been able to put the pieces together. He's never actually _had_ a migraine before. "So…what do I do about it?"

Choromatsu sighs. "Well, you just…I'll get you something to take, once your stomach settles a bit, but for now…Ichimatsu, can you close the blinds and turn off the light?"

Osomatsu hears the fourth brother do as he's told, and, as the room is plunged into darkness, he feels the barest hint of relief. He's at least able to squint at his observers now—Todomatsu is nowhere in sight (probably too squeamish about the puke), but Choromatsu, Karamatsu, and Ichimatsu are there, from what he can see.

There's a moment of hesitation. "Now, Osomatsu-niisan, we're gonna have to…you need to get cleaned up. At least change your shirt. Um, actually, let's get a bucket first…Ichimatsu, would you mind? And maybe a damp washcloth too." He hears a small noise of affirmation, and feet softly padding down the hall.

Then a question comes to mind. "Wait…" he whispers, "…why a bucket?"

Silence.

"…Choromatsu?"

"Well…" he can hear his brother fidgeting, "…to change your shirt, you're gonna have to…sit up, and…I'm not gonna lie to you, it'll really suck. And you might throw up again."

Oh. "Can't I just…stay like this?" but the sour reek of vomit staining his shirtfront answers that question for him.

Ichimatsu returns then, handing the bucket to Choromatsu. Karamatsu has already retrieved a fresh t-shirt and is standing at the ready.

"Ichimatsu, can you lift him? I want to hold this to make sure…okay, now Osomatsu-niisan, we're gonna go as slow as possible, okay? You don't have to do anything, just keep your eyes shut. If you're gonna be sick, just tip your head forward. I've got the bucket right under your chin, okay?"

It's really _not_ okay, because _nothing_ is okay, and his head hurts _so bad_ he could cry, except that would probably make it worse, and he has no choice but to agree.

Slowly, agonizingly, Ichimatsu begins to pull him upright. It's not so bad at first, but about halfway up he's hit with a horrible rush of vertigo and he retches, disgusted by the sound of puke splattering into the bottom of the bucket. But finally he's up, and he sways, eyes closed, and Ichimatsu has to hold him steady. Someone else—Choromatsu, lifts up the hem of his shirt, folding it up in such a way that nothing will get in his hair.

"You have to lift your arms, okay?"

So he does, and Choromatsu maneuvers the shirt up and over his head in the most gentle way possible. It's with this same kind of care that Karamatsu wipes the vomit off his chin before he is re-dressed in the clean shirt.

"Alright, let me get you a pillow and a blanket, hang on…" though he still has his eyes closed, Osomatsu can hear Choromatsu rummaging in the closet before returning to his side. "Okay, you can lay back down," he hears the pillow thump on opposite end of the sofa from where he'd been laying before. "We're gonna have to clean up the floor, but you didn't puke on the couch or anything, so it's not a big deal."

"I'll do it," Ichimatsu offers, "I don't really mind, so—"

The front door _slams_ open. "MUSCLE, MUSCLE! HUSTLE, HUSTLE!"

Osomatsu _whines_ , covering his ears. Karamatsu rubs his back.

"Oh—uh," Ichimatsu sounds torn, "I can…go talk to him, if you don't mind…?"

"We'll be fine," Choromatsu assures him, "I'm okay with cleaning up."

So Ichimatsu quickly goes to intercept his excitable brother, and the shouting stops within seconds. Osomatsu hears the front door open and close again, so they must've gone back outside. He breathes a sigh of relief.

Karamatsu cautiously helps him lay back down again, tucking the blanket around him once he's more or less settled. "Is there anything you need right now?" he asks in a low murmur.

There are about a _billion_ things he needs, none of which Karamatsu could provide at the moment. Still, "My mouth tastes gross."

"Okay—let me get you some water," Choromatsu offers, making his way down the stairs. He's back in a minute with a cup and a plastic straw. "You don't have to sit up, just take a sip and swish it around in your mouth, then you can spit it into the bucket." Osomatsu blinks his eyes open just long enough to locate the straw. "Don't look when you spit, okay? You'll just make yourself nauseous again."

So he doesn't, and Karamatsu wipes his chin with the cloth again.

"Think you can hold out for a couple minutes? I'll rinse this out for you in case you feel sick to your stomach again." Choromatsu offers.

Osomatsu gives him the barest hint of a nod, but it must be enough because he can hear footsteps leaving the room.

There's quiet for a moment, but then a sort of embarrassing selfish thought comes across his mind and he's voicing it before he has time to think about it. "Karamatsu?"

"Hm?"

"Can I…hold your hand?"

Without missing a beat, "Of course. Here." And Karamatsu gently takes hold of the hand half-curled on Osomatsu's chest. Osomatsu is immediately aware of the temperature difference—Karamatsu's is cool and dry while his feels hot, sweaty, and sticky by comparison—but Karamatsu doesn't say anything about it. It's kind of a childish thing, to want to hold your brother's hand when you're not feeling well, but Osomatsu is nothing if not a little childish. And it really _does_ make him feel better to know Karamatsu is there, since he can't keep his eyes open long enough to see him.

It takes Choromatsu a short while to return, but he makes no comment on the scene before him. Osomatsu can hear the muffled clunk of the bucket as Choromatsu sets it beside his head again, along with some kind of odd crinkly noise that he can't quite place.

"I brought you an ice-pack," the third brother explains. "You don't have to use it, but if you put it behind your neck it can help to dull the pain a bit until you're able to keep medication down. Do you want it?"

"Please."

"Okay—it's wrapped in a towel so it won't hurt your skin. Can you lift your head just a tiny bit?"

It's a tall order that shoots lightning-strikes of pain into the back of his skull, and all he can think is that he _really_ hopes Choromatsu is right about this.

He realizes he's gripping Karamatsu's hand way too tight and relaxes his grasp. He can hear Choromatsu scuffling around somewhere on the floor, then, and belatedly realizes he must be cleaning up his barf. "Sorry," he apologizes, even as the smell of lemon-scented cleaner turns his stomach.

"It's not a problem," Choromatsu replies, "I'm—there, I'm already done. Karamatsu-niisan, are you gonna…?"

"Yeah," and he shifts in a way that makes Osomatsu fear for a moment that he's going to leave him, but instead he just scoots over so he can lean against the sofa more comfortably. "You want me to stay for a while, Osomatsu-niisan?"

"Mmhmm," Osomatsu has to keep himself from nodding so he just squeezes Karamatsu's hand a little. Karamatsu gives him a reassuring squeeze back.

"Alright, I'm gonna leave the water here for you along with two pain tablets. Sip at it if you can, take those when you feel up to it, and try to get some rest, okay?" Osomatsu hears his approach but isn't sure what he's doing until he feels the feather-light brush of lips against his temple. And then Choromatsu is gone, sliding the door shut behind himself. Though he would have expected a kiss to hurt, the lingering sensation of warmth it leaves behind is somehow soothing to his frazzled nerves.

He's still not _entirely_ convinced he isn't dying, but it doesn't stop him from lacing his fingers with Karamatsu's and falling into a restless sleep.

* * *

He's sore when he wakes up, probably from laying in the same position the whole time. But that's not even the first thing he realizes—the first thing is the distinct _lack_ of Karamatsu's hand clasped in his own. He tries to squash down his hurt feelings because _of course_ Karamatsu wouldn't have wanted to stay the whole time. He doesn't even know how long it's been, and nobody would want to sit on the hard floor for hours when they had other things they could be doing. Still—

The door opens.

He's so surprised that he opens his eyes, just the tiniest bit, because he _has_ to see who it is. _Regret, regret, regret,_ as it's obvious this migraine thing is still alive and kicking, but he gets enough of a glimpse to see that it's Karamatsu.

"Oh, Osomatsu-niisan," Karamatsu kneels at his side again, "I didn't mean to—I just…I really had to pee," he sounds embarrassed. "I must've woken you when I detached our hands, I'm sorry."

 _Oh._ That's more of a relief than he'd maybe like to admit. "S'okay. What…what time is it?" he realizes how dry his throat is, "and can I…water?"

"Sure, here," Karamatsu carefully guides the end of the straw to his lips. "It's just past five. Do you want to take the pills now, too?"

Osomatsu takes stock of the nausea, which is still _there_ but much better than before, so he makes a small noise of affirmation. Karamatsu slips him the capsules one at a time so he has a chance to sip and swallow each one without choking.

"Is there anything else you need?" Karamatsu asks once he's more or less finished with the water.

Another chance to indulge in a selfish pleasure. He doesn't really want to inconvenienceKaramatsu _more_ , especially since he's been so nice to him all day, but since he'd asked… "Can I lay in your lap?" There. He said it.

A moment of stunned silence, then, "Oh, okay…you'll have to sit up for a second though, will you be alright?"

"Think so…I really wanna."

So Karamatsu slips the now-warm ice-pack from beneath his neck and _slowly_ helps him into a sitting position. He feels like the world is spinning around him but doesn't want to open his eyes long enough to check. "I'm gonna keep the pillow in my lap, okay? You'll be more comfortable that way."

"'Kay," he feels Karamatsu sit down next to him, and again cautious hands are on his shoulders to guide him back down. He cuddles up as close to his brother as he can get, ending up with the throbbing part of his head pressed firmly against Karamatsu's stomach. The warmth feels _good,_ and though Karamatsu lets out an inadvertent laugh that jostles him slightly, it doesn't hurt. Those same hands pull the blanket up to cover him again, and then one comes up to gently kneed by his shoulder while the other strokes down his spine.

Osomatsu is pretty sure he's in migraine heaven. If that's even a thing.

* * *

It takes him almost no time at all to fall asleep again.

The next time he wakes up, he can see through his eyelids that the room is completely dark. He shifts, and Karamatsu must feel him shift, because he breathes in sharply in surprise. "Mmnn…time is it now?" is the first question on his mind.

"Past dinner. Everyone's at the bathhouse."

"Oh…you miss dinner?"

"Yeah, but it's no big deal…" as if to pointedly discredit him, Karamatsu's stomach lets out a displeased grumble. Osomatsu snorts. "…I can eat later," he finishes weakly. Osomatsu can practically hear him blushing. "A-anyway, Choromatsu brought you some crackers and more water. He said it would be good to eat at least a little bit, for the nausea."

"Mmkay," and he allows Karamatsu to hold the straw to his lips again for sips of water between small bites of cracker.

He's _just_ about finished with his final cracker when he hears tiptoeing steps up the stairs, then the soft thunk of the door sliding open. A light briefly flashes over his face, which makes him flinch, but he realizes it must be the flashlight on Todomatsu's cell phone.

Theyall realize he's awake, too, so he gets a smattering of quiet, "Hi, Osomatsu-niisan"s as they shuffle around in the dark to get ready for bed. He hears them roll out the futon and knows what he wants to do next.

"I wanna…" he whispers to Karamatsu, "…I wanna sleep with everyone else."

"Ahh…" Karamatsu sounds unsure, and he must gesture Choromatsu over somehow because the third brother is soon by their side. "Osomatsu-niisan wants to sleep in the futon…is that a good idea?"

Osomatsu is _slightly_ offended his decision isn't automatically accepted, but since Choromatsu seems to be the migraine expert, it might not be too terrible to listen to what he has to say.

"Hmm…I don't know…I mean, _I_ usually—well, this isn't about me, I guess…" he pauses. "I'm a pretty still sleeper, but what about Totty? If he bumps into you, you could end up in a lot of pain. Or what if you feel sick again? Maybe…" he thinks to himself, "…you could switch places with Ichimatsu for the night? Karamatsu doesn't move around a lot, and Ichimatsu probably won't mind _too_ much…"

Osomatsu wants to complain because he happens to _like_ his position in the middle of the futon—it's warm and comfortable to be surrounded by other people. But he can't deny Choromatsu's logic, either. "Okay," he agrees, "ask Ichimatsu?"

Choromatsu does, and Osomatsu can only pick up bits and pieces of the hushed conversation—but Ichimatsu doesn't sound angry, or even particularly annoyed—so he's not surprised when Choromatsu comes back to tell them it's been arranged.

"Do you want to change into pajamas?" Choromatsu asks him.

"Yeah." He _definitely_ wants to. He feels super gross and sweaty from the day's ordeals—but a shower is completely out of the question, so a change of clothes will have to suffice for now.

So Choromatsu helps him sit up again, carefully pulling his t-shirt over his head and buttoning up his pajama top for him. Karamatsu's help is enlisted for the pants, before Choromatsu shoos him away to go eat dinner. "Are you ready to get into bed?"

"Y—" but wait. No. There's another…pressing matter…that he knows he won't be able to ignore regardless of how hard he tries. "I have to _pee_ ," he half-whimpers, because the bathroom is so far _away_ and he really does not want to walk there but he knows he has no other choice and it's just. Awful. Everything is awful.

Choromatsu sighs a bit, but places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'll help you. Can you stand?" And he can, so he does, and Choromatsu gets a supportive arm around his waist. "You can keep your eyes shut. I'll guide you the whole way. Take tiny steps, alright?"

It's an excruciating journey. The smell of Karamatsu reheating whatever was left from dinner hits him as soon as they're in the hall and makes him incredibly nauseous. He honestly can't believe it once they've made it to the bathroom, and the only thing keeping him from crying in relief is the knowledge that they'll have to make the return trip in a few minutes.

"Do you need help?" Choromatsu offers, and he knows it's sincere but he can't take it...that's just too embarrassing for words.

"No, I'll…sit, I guess. Just leave the lights off." So Choromatsu does, and Osomatsu hears the door slide shut behind him. It's a terrifying few seconds of fumbling in the dark before he finds the toilet—he's lived here for how long, exactly?—but once he does it's pretty easy from there. The sound of him washing his hands must serve as a cue for Choromatsu to open the door again, and they slowly make their way back to the bedroom.

Karamatsu is already back, changing into his own pajamas when they return, and he and Choromatsu both help Osomatsu get settled at the end of the futon. It's a weird sensation to have nobody on his right—almost lonely in a way he can't really describe. He feels somewhat better when Karamatsu slides in next to him. For this reason—and perhaps because Karamatsu has essentially been his pain buddy all day—he has no qualms whatsoever about cuddling up as close as he can possibly get as soon as Karamatsu stills.

Karamatsu doesn't even seem surprised at this point. All he asks is, "Comfortable?"

Osomatsu figures another little snuggle can probably serve as his answer for tonight.


End file.
